


A Cure

by Forever_Imagining



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, mentions of weird disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 15:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Imagining/pseuds/Forever_Imagining
Summary: You hid this secret for a while; you’re dying. This secret affects everything around you, including your relationship with your boyfriend, Johnathon Murphy.





	1. Chapter 1

“How long?”

“(Y/n)…”

“How long?”

“A few months. At most. I could try to prolong it, as much as I can, but… this disease, no one has been able to cure it before, and I have no means of trying to-“

“You don’t have to, Dr. Griffin. I’ll just…” You pursed your lips, trying to force back your tears.

The doctor sadly smiled at you. She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Come to me every Monday, ok? I’ll treat you.”

“Thank you.” You exhaled shakily. You clenched your fists, willing yourself to look stronger than you actually were. “I better go.”

The moment you stepped outside the remains of the Ark, your boyfriend found you. He stood in front of you. “So? How’d it go?”

Your heart dropped right into your stomach. You had to tell him. You opened your mouth to respond, maybe to whisper that you were going to die in a few months. However, once you saw Murphy’s lips set in a straight line, his eyes full of despair, and the scars on his neck, you stopped. Were you really going make it worse for him?

You smiled a little, trying to fake it as much as you can. “Nothing big. Just some old disease, used to be common. Abby thinks that as long as I visit her once a week, I will be fine.”

Murphy sighed, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Good. Don’t want my girlfriend dying on me anytime soon.”

You smiled a little before clasping your hands together. “So, are we going to the shooting range or not?”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes before taking your hand and walking you to the shooting range. “You need to work on your aim, anyway.”

You moved your intertwined hands so that his arm wrapped around your shoulder. Hearing his last snide remark, you elbowed him in the stomach. “Watch it, Murphy. I know your weak spots.” You laughed, pushing the fatal thoughts of your incurable disease into the back of your brain.

It followed you like a shadow throughout the entire camp. Whenever you thought everything was perfect, when you were stuck in a moment you wished would never pass… it ended. Pain split your head. Your stomach lurched. Your body lost its energy.

Your boyfriend was always there to try and comfort you. At first, it was obvious when you were in pain. You’d maybe lurch forward or scream. Once Murphy was at your side, you’d tell him it was the disease but nothing you couldn’t handle. Soon, you got used to the pain, living with constant reminders you will die. Instead of the screams or cowering, you’d clench your fists or tighten your jaw. Murphy still saw it, but you blamed it on the stress.

He knew you were lying. Murphy could see it. He didn’t know what you were lying about. Lots of things had happened around Camp Jaha. Clarke had left; Camp Jaha was in pieces after the Grounder’s abandonment, and nightmares of every horrid event that had passed plagued everyone’s nightmares. Your boyfriend knew something was wrong. Murphy just didn’t know what it was.

As time went on, Murphy and you grew more distant. Every time he pried into why you were “stressed,” you pushed him away. Since Murphy was too stubborn, all conversations with him turned into an interrogation, which caused you to push him away even further. Tensions rose, and one day, it snapped.

“Do you have to do that?”

You groaned. “What?”

“Tap your fingers constantly.”

You grit your teeth. It was a side effect of the medicine, the anxiousness. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Cut my fingers off, huh? Would that make you happier?”

“What would make me happier is you stopping that annoying tapping. Honestly, it’s so fucking repetitive.”

“Really? I wonder how that feels.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ha! You,” you pointed your finger at him and stood up, causing your chair to slam against the tent, “you repeatedly interrogate me every day as if I am some sort of criminal!”

“Criminal?” Murphy walked up to you, staring you down. “Y/n, you were sent here because you were a criminal!”

“Yeah! You were sent here, too.”

“Well, at least I tell you everything! What have you done, huh, Y/n? Mope around camp like some stranded puppy?!”

“I do more than you!”

“Like what?” He scoffed.

“Not snooping into other’s fucking business!”

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/n! My girlfriend! I need to know if something is bothering you!”

“Oh, and why is that, Johnathon?”

“I care about you! I need to know, ok? But, no matter how much I try, you never let me in! You are more stubborn than me!”

“At least I know when to give someone their own personal space!”

“And what good does that do?”

“It gets better results than your little messed-up plan! What do you expect me to do, John? To gush out all of my feelings and secrets lovingly?” You clasped your hands together mockingly. “Oh, John, I am so sorry about everything. Find it in the bottom of your heart to forgive me?” You rolled your eyes. “Well, that’s never gonna happen, ok?!”

“Then, what is happening between us? You don’t tell me anything! The last personal thing I heard from you were the nightmares of the last Grounder war. That was what? Three months ago? And look at us now. We’re nothing! And, it’s not because of me or my lack of effort, because I have tried, (Y/n). I have. It’s you who hasn’t done anything!”

“It’s not my fault that I’m going to die!”

Silence. Absolute and utter silence. 

Murphy was in utter shock. The rage he had before disappeared, and was replaced by fear and uncertainty. “What do you mean by that?”

You sat down again, tears spilling onto your cheeks. You avoided Murphy’s gaze.

Murphy walked closer to you. “(Y/n), you said the disease was cured.”

“I lied.”

“Your visits with Abby…”

“To get check-ups and medicine. The disease is incurable.” You stared at him through the tears. “I’m sorry. I meant-“

“How long?”

“Murphy…”

“How long?” he demanded.

You gulped and stared at the floor. “A month and a half.”

“At least?”

“At most.” You bit your lip and stared at the floor.

A resounding crash echoed throughout the tent. You jumped up from your seat and shouted, “Murphy! Stop!”

Your boyfriend had reached for the closest item he could grab and threw it against the floor as hard as he could.

“Murphy, please.” You wrapped your arms around his chest before he could reach anything else. You pressed yourself against his back. “Stop.”

Murphy shut his eyes tightly, preventing his own tears from spilling. His attempts were futile as the tears escaped. He shook his head and moved you so that he could hug you close. His hands grabbed your back, always moving and trying to make sure you were still with him.

Then, he did something you never thought could happen, or was even possible. He started to cry. Tears fell onto your shoulder as he tried to keep his cool. With you in his arms, he couldn’t find it within himself to be mad. Murphy pursed his lips. “It shouldn’t be you.” He rested his chin in the crook of your neck.

You closed your eyes and pulled him closer to you. “It shouldn’t be you, either.”

“I’m not the one dying.”

You stayed silent. Instead, you gently brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’ll be ok.” You sighed. “You’ll be ok, too.”

“We’re going to find a cure.”

“What?” you pulled away from him and grasped his shoulders. “Murphy, that’s crazy. There is no cure.”

“You say so, and Abby, but what if someone, some place has it all?” He grasped your hands. “Jaha, he… he mentioned a place called the City of Light. Sure, it might not exist, but everyone who can make it there… They could have a cure. We could catch up with them.”

“Murphy…”

“It’s a long-shot, I know. But, we need to cure you.” Murphy caressed your cheek. He pursed his lips. “I am not going to lose you to some stupid disease.”

You instinctively leaned into his touch. Seeing your boyfriend like this made your heart swell. He’d chase some myth just to try to cure you, just to keep you on the Ground. What did you do to deserve such love?

You grinned. “I guess we better pack then.”

Murphy smiled and pecked your lips. “I’m going to find a cure. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

“(Y/n). (Y/n), come on. Wake up.”

You groaned, opening your eyes.

Murphy smiled. “Come on.” He held out a hand for you.

You took it, stumbling to your feet. “Well, here’s the so-called City of Light.” You squinted at your surroundings. A skyscraper towered above you.

With a smirk, you looked to your boyfriend. You knew that both of you had the same idea. The two of you trudged towards the lighthouse. You stumbled across something that was not sand, but more like a sheet of metal.

Murphy was immediately by your side, pulling you away from the unknown ground. With his foot, he uncovered a solar panel.

You ran ahead, ignoring Murphy’s calls. Pushing the leaves away, you uncovered a crack, a door to the tower. “Murphy, check this out.”

He nodded, prying the door open. He entered first, holding your hand.

The lights flickered on, revealing the extravagant scene. You beamed at the sight. There was a beautiful countertop with glasses of alcohol and packages with, hopefully, food. The couched were made out of leather and the tv was bigger than any screen you’ve ever seen.

You passed Murphy, grabbing the packages of food and stuffing as much as you could in your mouth. “This is delicious,” you moaned with an open mouth. You jumped onto the couch, sighing. Your back and limbs ached and the softness of the couch made it so much better.

Your boyfriend plopped down right next to you with two glasses of alcohol. “Drink up!”

You laughed and took the drink. “To the City of Light!”

“To our cure.”

You two raised your glasses and took a swig. Murphy laughed, pulling you to his side. “I love you.”

Your eyes widened, staring at his mutilated arm. “Careful! You could get that infected!” You turned around, taking his arm off your shoulder and scrutinizing it.

Murphy just laughed. He took his arm out of your care and held you by the shoulders. “Hey, hey, did you hear what I just said?”

You tilted your head. “I really didn’t hear anything when you placed your injured arm with an open wound around my shoulder where there is dirt and grime.”

Murphy chuckled. “Hey. (Y/n), I love you.”

The two of you loved each other very much. However, most of the time, that phrase was never said out loud. Your heart swelled. “I love you, too.”

“Now,” your boyfriend started, “let’s find that cure.”

“What?”

“The cure. The one that will make you better, stay with me longer. That cure.”

“Yes, I know what cure you’re talking about, but in this tower? Murphy, this seems like a resort, a bunker. Why would they keep medicine here?” You smiled softly. “Plus, this is probably the first time in months we’ve had a quiet moment. I want to spend that with my boyfriend.”

“(Y/n)-“

“Please, Murphy.”

Your boyfriend sighed. He opened his mouth to say something against it, but when he saw your hopeful expression and your wide eyes, he couldn’t help giving into your request. Murphy smiled and leaned in closer. His hand came up to cradle your cheek. His lips hovered right over yours. Your boyfriend smirked.

You groaned. With one hand, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you, allowing your lips to finally meet. Murphy leaned down and held your cheeks, trying to deepen the kiss. However, you pulled away, making your boyfriend whimper at the loss of contact.

You smirked. “Catch me if you can,” you whispered. You took off, running up down the stairs.

“You’re not playing nice, (Y/n)!” shouted Murphy.

Your laugh echoed throughout the staircase.

Then, you made a stupid mistake. You looked behind you. The semi second you lost from that allowed Murphy to catch up to you. Your boyfriend caught you, ensnaring you in his arms.

You laughed. “Murphy! Let go!”

He tightened his grip on you. “And why would I do that?”

“Because you love me.” You gaze up at him, pecking his lips quickly.

“Well, that was short-lived.” Murphy kissed you, pushing his lips against yours.

You responded eagerly, twisting in his arms and fully facing him. You smiled into the kiss. Then, you grasped his shoulders, letting your happiness fuel your actions.

Murphy’s hands traveled to your hips, pulling you closer.

Feeling Murphy against you made you insane. You’ve told him so many times of your impending death, of the shadow that always came with you. However, no matter what you told Murphy, no matter what he went through for you, no matter what mistakes you have made, he stayed with you. He loved you so much that he even went through the desert just to get a cure that he wasn’t sure he even existed. How lucky were you?

Sure, the shadow sucked to have, but having Murphy love you… Sure, it didn’t cure you, but it gave you hope. Someone loved you. Someone wanted you there. Someone was willing to die just to give you another day.

Murphy gave you purpose. If it wasn’t for him, you would’ve given up.

For hours on end, Murphy and you explored the tower, discovering cool technology, drinking the alcohol you found, and cuddling on the couch.

You snuggled into Murphy’s side, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Murphy smiled, pulling the blanket up to your chin. He stared at the tv, which had a fight scene from some movie the two of you found. With the last image of your boyfriend smiling at the screen, you drifted off into sleep.

Morning came. Murphy woke up with a smile. “(Y/n). (Y/n), it’s morning already. At least, I think it is.” You yawned, stretching a little. When you didn’t respond, he smirked. Murphy kissed you on the forehead. “(Y/n). Come on. You gotta wake up now.”

You still didn’t respond.

Murphy blinked. His heart stopped. “(Y/n)?” He pulled away from you and shook your shoulder. “(Y/n), this isn’t funny. Wake up.”

You didn’t respond.

“Come on, (Y/n). It’s not fucking funny. You’ve gotta wake up!” He held your cheeks again and brushed your hair away from your eyes. “(Y/n)! Come on!” He leaned down, pressing his ear against your chest.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was no beat, no sign of life. You were cold.

Murphy’s eyes widened. “No! You can’t do this to me! (Y/n), wake up! I’ll never forgive you if you don’t wake up!” He shook your shoulders again. However, your body just limply swayed, never responding.

Seeing your body so… lifeless, it devastated Murphy. “No,” he whispered. “(Y/n), I love you. Please. Please, you’ve gotta come back.” Tears filled his eyes. He wiped them away. “Come on, please.” He kissed you, just allowing his lips to touch yours.

You didn’t respond.

Murphy choked. Tears fell, and so did he. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.” The energy he had was sucked right out of him. His entire body fell upon yours as he clutched your clothes. You were gone. The only person he truly loved, the only person who saw him as the good guy, the only person who made him happy… you were gone.

Murphy grasped your hands, your hands that would never hold his again. He gulped. He was so used to you intertwining your fingers together, or tightening your grip on his. Yet, that time, your hands, it didn’t fit into his. It was a blow to his gut.

Murphy tightened his grip on your hands. He inhaled shakily, trying not to break again. He stared at you, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Murphy shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be you. It shouldn’t be you.”

He could hear your words echoing back. “It shouldn’t be you, either.”

His tears fell again. He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember to breathe. He needed to do something! He had to do something. Something caused this, and Murphy was not going to stand for it. He was going to beat it, avenge you, make sure it wished it never existed.

But… What could he do? It was some stupid disease.

His anger erupted. Murphy screamed in pain, anguish, rage, every emotion he felt. Because, what else could he do? He didn’t have you anymore.

So what was the point?


End file.
